Shadewood when the last tree has fallen

"Exactly," the huntress smiled, taking great pride in the passing of such knowledge - life was all about balance, she believed, and they were all connected. If part of the chain broke, the rest would come crumbling down; to tip the balance was a perilous risk, and this is why she always gave thanks to the lives that passed to renew her own. The hunt was as much an art as it was a bid for survival.

"Yes, we should. Once the children are here-" she passed a glance to her own stomach, and briefly flickered her fathomless gaze over that of Phex's own, "perhaps we can organise one. I do miss hunting together with others." It would be good to engage in some exercise, too - she'd been unable to sprint for an unthinkable period of time, and her legs ached to leap across the forest floor, to embrace the freedom of the wild wolf; not to say she'd wish her children gone. Never. But the act of pregancy was definitely tiring, and she was weary.